Jill's Journal: The story of Chip, Dale and their buddy, Simon
I really do appreciate wildlife. But if you remember, last spring, it was the birds that I had to contend with, or at least one specific bird with a never-give-up attitude. For weeks on end, some sort of bird worked tirelessly to build a nest on the light fixture outside my front door. Each day when I’d come from work, I’d knock down and clean up what the bird had accomplished that day.
Again, this particular bird was no quitter.
That was, of course, until I finally came up with just the right arsenal. I tried different things to keep the bird from building its nest, only to be out-smarted in my attempts. Thankfully, for my own sanity, the magic solution to “the problem” turned out to be a Ziploc bag covering the fixture. Lo and behold, that was my saving grace.
Although it may appear as “the elevator doesn’t go to the top floor” of whoever comes knocking at my door, you should know, I’m not giving in, just like that bird.
And guess what? I placed a brand-new Ziploc bag over the top of the light fixture once again this spring after I spied a bird’s first attempt of taking up residency without my approval. And once again, it’s working.
With my bird dilemma now in check, my nemesis this year have become the squirrels in my backyard, who I’ve “affectionately” named Chip, Dale, and their buddy, Simon. The trio are frequent visitors to my patio, which, for the most part, I typically don’t take issue with. But they’ve made themselves a tad bit too much “at home.”
Most years by this time, I’d have my patio set up and ready to enjoy. I held off until the shingles were replaced, which after a few welcome rain delays, was finally accomplished last Friday. Pair the timing with three days on the sidelines of the state track meet and, as one may expect, something had to give, hence the patio’s “still-in-winter-mode” state.
Back to my backyard invaders – the trio – may have or my not have tucked away some nuts in the crevices of the tarp that I wrapped my firepit in, or nestled them under the also-covered patio furniture. My inkling stems from the fact when they scamper onto the patio, they’re always sniffing around the tarp, doing their best to get behind the tarp. Their attempts have even created a few holes, which have been covered with the master of all fixes, Duct tape.
One afternoon over the Memorial Day weekend, two members of the trio were scaling the metal frame of the gazebo I have to provide shade and protect the furniture when it rains. The third – he was scaling the screen of my patio door.
That brought me back to my kindergarten days, when my longtime pal and I were walking home after our morning session of learning. We attended school at the local Armory, just a short, straight path down the street from our block. Back then, kids our age walked to school on our own with no parents in tow.
There was one particular walk home on our short “jaunt” to the Armory – the Brown’s home – which, I swear, every squirrel in town lived there. The mass number of squirrels one day stopped us in our treks, and ignited our squeals of kindergarten-aged fear that brought Clara Brown, the matron of the Brown home, out the front door, rushing to our rescue.
This week, I should finally have some time to take my patio from winter storage to its summertime relaxtion stage.
I had to laugh when I spied a Facebook post last week regarding the squirrel activity that took place at Risen Savior. As the story goes, the church doors had been propped open while Xtremely Clean clean the carpets. “That’s when a little squirrel decided that he wanted to come in and pray,” the post read. “That squirrel went straight for Jesus and he just wouldn’t come down. Carla (Gross) tried some squirrel whispering techniques that didn’t do much.”
That’s when they turned to a logical solution to their dilemma: They called in the Brandon Police, who were kind enough to respond to the non-emergency.
“After a few pokes, we had a squirrel jumping down off of the crucifix, some screams from bystanders, and a running squirrel,” the post read. “That little squirrel was so fast. He made it through the Church, into the parish hall and then finally out the front doors! Never underestimate the balance, preparedness or speed of a squirrel!”
And that’s what got me to thinking, maybe my patio needs Jesus.
